


Box of Rain

by Moontyger



Series: Somebody Else's Story [3]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Jossed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-22
Updated: 2006-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex and pain - things fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Box of Rain

“You shouldn't have done that, Mello.” Near's expression was serious and he met Mello's eyes unflinchingly despite a somewhat awkward shifting from one foot to the other that betrayed his nervousness.

Mello shut L's bedroom door behind him carefully before answering. What was Near doing out here this morning, anyway? Had he been waiting for him? “Why not?” He met the other boy's pale eyes just as stubbornly. He had no reason to be nervous, after all; he had done nothing wrong, whatever Near thought.

Near frowned. “It's inappropriate. We're not supposed to have that kind of relationship with L.”

“We were never told that. And L doesn't seem to mind. He never turns me away.” He was proud of that, as he was proud that L brought him chocolate when he didn't bring anything back for anyone else. Maybe it was merely kindness or worse, pity, on L's part, but he didn't think so. Or at least he hoped not. He wanted to believe that L loved him, wanted him, so he refused to consider other possible motives. He started to unwrap a bar of chocolate without looking at it, his eyes fixed challengingly on Near.

Near looked even more concerned. It infuriated him. He could take care of himself; he didn't need this _child_ to worry about him! “If he cares about you, it's worse. You'll be a distraction, a weakness.”

Mello recoiled, feeling as if the words had been a slap. “That's not true!” His protest was automatic, but he really believed it. He had to. He couldn't bear to think he weakened L, made him more likely to fail. “Caring isn't as much of a weakness as you think it is, Near! And it gives him a reason to solve the case and come back soon.”

Yes, he sounded defensive and he knew it, hated it. But Near always made him feel that way. And to suddenly see him here, when he wasn't expecting it, and hear him threatening the one thing he had that Near didn't, the one thing that really mattered to him and made him feel better about himself... well, was it any wonder he felt angry and defensive? He bit off a piece of chocolate decisively and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look as though none of this bothered him.

Near gave him a look that told him he saw right through this pretense, but said nothing; merely turned and walked away. Mello seethed. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway? Showing up here first thing in the morning as though to throw it in his face that he knew about him and L, start an argument about it, and then just leave? Was it any wonder he couldn't stand him? He stormed off in the opposite direction, knowing from experience that there was little point in following Near to continue the argument.

* * *

As Mello had grown older, closer to the time he would be old enough to leave, he spent more nights in L's bed whenever he was there. L seemed more comfortable with it as Mello seemed less a child and Mello himself was more desperate for it. He wanted to make sure L wouldn't forget him; wanted him to know this hadn't been the whim of a child, but what he truly wanted, would always want. He may have been in training to be L's successor, but in truth, he wanted to be his partner. His visions of the future always had the two of them together rather than him alone, and Near was never in them at all.

Every time L had a new case, Mello always asked the same thing. “Take me with you,” he said this time, as he had on so many other occasions He always hoped maybe this time would be different. After all, he was nearly old enough now... this might be the last case L had before he would be. The Kira case worried him, too. How could someone kill people without touching them, just by wanting them dead? Mello didn't know and he knew L didn't either. It was completely unknown and that made it dangerous. He didn't want him going and risking his life. What would he do if he didn't come back? He would be lost - merely second best again, the one who was never quite good enough. So he tried harder than usual this time. “This case is different from the others. You might need help and you know I could help you!”

“Mello,” L said softly, stroking his back and his hair until he relaxed and lay his head back down on his chest. “I know you could help me and I would value your help. But it's because it is dangerous that I'm not going to take you. I won't risk you, not yet.” He kissed him, swallowing his protest, and Mello gave a little sigh and relented, at least for now. He knew L said it to manipulate him, but he hoped it was at least partially true.

“I don't want to lose you,” Mello whispered, hoping L could hear in it the words of love he never quite said. He _wanted_ to say it, but he just couldn't, and L never said it either. Surely L had to know, to think it was at least very likely. He could almost hear him calmly saying something like, 'There is a 97% chance that Mello is in love with me.'

He made another request, for something else he wanted almost as much. “Please, make love to me for real this time, before you go. I'm old enough now!”

L looked amused. “I don't think anything we've done hasn't been real.” He put a finger to his lips to stop his protest. “I know what you mean. All right. If that's what you really want, I will.”

“It is.” He was a bit nervous, but he was far too determined to let that stop him. He wanted to be L's lover completely, in every way possible, to tie him to him so he would come back. It probably wasn't necessary, but it would make him feel more secure, so it would be worth it.

He kissed him, shifting on top of him so he could touch him more easily, sliding his hands over L's body slowly, trying to memorize the feel of him, what it was like to touch him. He was afraid of losing him, and he wanted to be sure he could perfectly recall the exact feel of his skin against his fingers, the exact shape of the curve of his hipbone, the way L's erection felt pressing against his thigh.

He wondered if L could tell he had been practicing and if he wondered (or knew) who it had been with. Mello hadn't wanted to be unfaithful, exactly, but he was lonely and they hadn't made any promises. Besides, it was only kissing and some fondling, nothing that serious, and he had made sure not to let it go any farther. As far as he was concerned, L was still his only lover.

L rolled them over and Mello hung on, not willing to let go even this briefly. He kissed him more passionately than usual, a hand tangled in his hair while the other wandered his body, and he wondered if it meant L was worried. Maybe he wanted to make sure he remembered how Mello felt, too, make sure he could remember he had someone to come back to. Maybe that was just his wishful thinking, but certainly L seemed to be more eager, less careful, than usual. Perhaps it was simply that he had finally decided Mello really was old enough and just let himself feel and react without worrying so much about hurting him or what they were doing. Whichever it was, Mello was glad of it. He felt L truly desired him for the first time and he reveled in the feeling. This was, finally, everything he had hoped for.

He sighed softly, happily, and then moaned as L seemed determined to taste every inch of his body, starting with his ears and neck and then moving lower, lingering over pale pink nipples while his hands stroked down his sides, over his hips, and up his inner thighs. By the time he reached his waist, Mello was squirming, whimpering with desire. L had never spent so much time on this, never tried to seduce him, but then it wasn't necessary. He felt as though he were melting, like he had somehow become one of his own chocolate bars and the heat of L's mouth was reducing him to a puddle, a chocolaty smear on the sheets.

L seemed unconcerned by Mello's increasing desperation, merely moving his hands to his hips and holding him down while he continued his leisurely journey over his hips and thighs, sucking and licking everywhere but where he most wanted. “L,” he gasped, but all he got in return was a smile. He had never dreamed it could be like this and he wondered briefly if this meant things had changed between them.

Mello was far too close to the edge to hold out long when he stopped teasing him. L had hardly touched him when he came with a soft gasping noise. He might have worried about it had he been less aroused and had he not felt certain that L must have known and planned for it.

L kissed him again, a kiss that tasted of semen and urgency, rubbing himself against Mello's thigh before pulling away with a sharp exhalation of breath. Mello watched L slick his fingers with lube, nervously wondering when and why he had obtained it. Had he been planning this himself? Not that he minded if he had. Maybe he had just anticipated him asking again and decided he would say yes. Well, better than not being prepared, he supposed.

His finger was warm and he was gentle, but it still felt strange and he wriggled a bit, uncomfortably trying to adjust. “You need to relax for this to be pleasant,” L said, his voice calm and serious even though it must have been difficult for him to be so patient. Maybe this had been a bad idea, but Mello wouldn't say so. He _did_ want this, after all; it was simply that he was never very good at relaxing, no matter what the situation. He never felt _safe_ enough to relax: part of him was always alert, watching and worrying.

For now, though, he shifted his hips again and breathed deeply, trying to force himself to trust enough to let go. If he wasn't safe here, with L, where would he be? He made himself shut everything else out, so his world narrowed to the two of them. And it helped. He felt tension leave his muscles and he moaned softly as discomfort transformed into pleasure like mist parted by the warmth of the sun.

“Are you ready?” Mello could hear need behind the concern in L's voice and he nodded. It was even mostly true. The expression on L's face and the soft sound he made in his throat when he entered him made the discomfort worth it, would have made it worth it to him if it had been many times worse. _Anything_ was worth knowing that this was something L actually _wanted_ rather than merely a gift he gave, as most of what they had done had seemed to be. Not that sex as a gift to him rather than something mutual didn't mean a lot, wasn't evidence of caring in itself, but he had always wanted more. And now maybe he had it.

Mello's thoughts began to lose coherence as L moved, slowly at first, and his body responded. Pleasure blossomed inside him at the sensation and he gasped, almost surprised. He had always expected to like it, but he had worried that he wouldn't, too. He was glad to find that his worry had been for nothing. “Feels... good,” he had the presence of mind to whisper, wanting the man he loved so desperately to know that he was enjoying it.

And then he was only aware of the need building inside him, the heady feeling that he was racing towards the edge of a cliff as fast as he could, ready to jump and desperate to do so. He felt L's hand on him, stroking hard and fast, and he came with an almost wounded cry, his fingernails carving lines in L's back.

“Mello,” L breathed in a rough almost-whisper as he shook with his own orgasm, long, too-thin fingers digging into his hips. Not even the faint burning inside him as he slid out or the suspicion that he'd continue to be sore tomorrow could make Mello regret it after that.

“Please, come back for me,” he said softly as he wrapped himself around L, heedless of the mess. He felt those huge dark eyes on him, watching, and he looked up to meet them, knowing and not caring that he would be able to read his need and desperation in his expression. Why should he hide what they both already knew he felt?

After a long moment, arms tightened around him. “I will,” L answered. And he knew the wording was vague and it wasn't really a promise he could make besides, but he felt reassured.

* * *

Mello was throwing his few belongings into a backpack and choking back sobs when he heard the door open behind him. He didn't even bother to turn around; nothing would change his mind. All he could hear was Roger's voice echoing in his mind, telling him that L was dead. Beneath it, fainter, he could hear L's voice as he promised to come back for him. But he had lied and now Mello was alone again, in a way he had not been in years. Even though L wasn't there very often, he'd always known he was out there and he would come back. He'd always hoped he would love him, even though no one else did. And now, he never would.

“I'm sorry.”

Near's voice, very close by, startled him. Mello wiped tears away furiously and sniffled, wishing he had some way to surreptitiously blow his nose. Near was sitting on the bed that had been his until today, looking up at him.

“No, you're not. You didn't care about L! And now I'll be out of the way, too. You have everything you ever wanted!” Why couldn't he stop crying? It was humiliating to cry, especially in front of Near, whose eyes were infuriatingly dry. Mello squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to stop the tears. The feel of gentle hands wiping them away made him open them again, and he stared in astonishment to see that it was Near.

“No, I don't.” His voice was soft, but his eyes were sad. “Stay, Mello. Please.”

“Why? Because I make you look better by comparison? So you can tell me again that this was my fault, that I weakened L?” His voice was bitter, but he stopped trying to pack and sat on the bed, covering his face with his hands. Why did this have to happen? Why did it have to hurt so _much_?

He felt Near put his arms around him and even though he hated him, he couldn't help but lean into his embrace. He was so alone and hurt and Near was offering, even if he didn't understand why. He cried on his shoulder and Near stroked his hair and if he didn't think about it, it almost felt comforting, like he wasn't alone after all.

“I shouldn't have said that,” Near said at last, softly. “I'm sorry. It was unfair of me.”

Mello blinked in astonishment. What was with Near today? Comforting him, apologizing... why was he doing this? He never acted like this normally. “Why are you doing this?” he asked in a voice roughened by his tears. “What do you get out of it? You don't care about anyone, so you must have some reason!”

“You're wrong. I don't _want_ to care about anyone. But I do. I care about you, Mello.” Even saying this, his voice was calm, as though he had made a simple statement of some everyday fact, something that everyone knew.

Mello gaped at him. He'd never... what was he saying? He was even more shocked when Near took advantage of his stunned state and kissed him. His thoughts turned to white noise; it felt like his brain was shutting down from too many shocks in one day. His entire world view had been shaken twice now in less than an hour. L... was dead and never coming back? And Near... How could it be true? But it was undoubtedly true that he hadn't stopped kissing him, touching him.

“Wait... stop,” he managed to say, shoving the younger boy away and trying to catch his breath, trying to think. He looked at Near, white hair mussed, face wet with Mello's tears, and wondered what had happened. What should he do?

“Please, Mello,” Near said, taking his hand. It was the hint of pleading in that usually emotionless voice and his own loneliness that decided him. What could it hurt? He was still leaving, but just this once, if it made them both feel better... He pushed Near down on the bed, kissing him and fumbling at his clothes, surprised to find that the other boy was already hard.

Near seemed just as desperate if completely inexperienced, hands that were usually so deft and certain seeming suddenly clumsy as he inexpertly caressed him. He whimpered when Mello caught his earlobe between his teeth and he was surprised at how much the sound turned him on. He felt a sudden fierce desire to hear that sound again, more, he wanted to drag as many sounds out of him as he could. He wanted to hear how he sounded when he came.

It was completely different than how things had been with L. For one, he was the one irrevocably in control; Near didn't seem inclined to resist him or assert himself at all, even when Mello was rough with him, although he didn't seem disinterested either. And it was more desperate, more intense, on both sides.

Mello dragged his nails down Near's sides, fascinated by the red streaks on the skin that was nearly as white as the sheets, the gasp he made. Near's hands were warm and sweaty and his mouth even warmer as he at last tried to return the attention, shoving Mello's pants off his hips and hesitantly biting the juncture of his neck and shoulder, then doing it again more confidently when he heard the moan he made in response.

About the time he felt Near's hand close around his cock, Mello realized he was crying again. He cried even harder when he heard him cry out his name when he came and his own orgasm felt more like a relief than pleasure. But he also felt somewhat better afterwards and he didn't protest when he felt Near's fingers in his hair. Nor did he say anything when he got up to pull the blankets over them both, accepting his rival's presence in his bed in uncharacteristic silence.

“You're still leaving, aren't you?” Near's voice was flat, certain. If he were disappointed, it wasn't obvious.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stay here anymore. With L dead, his whole reason for remaining was gone. It would just hurt more to stay here and remember.

He rolled over on his side and unwrapped a bar of chocolate. The familiar taste and smell seemed strange when so much else had changed. Near wrapped himself around him, holding him as though he wanted to keep him there. It was far more comforting than he would ever have expected anything involving Near to be. He wondered how the other boy would feel after he left, if he would miss him, and the idea made him feel an unexpected hint of regret.

“I'll see you again one day.” Near spoke softly, but sounded just as certain as before. When he thought about it, Mello realized it was probably true. It was inevitable that he would see Near again: even away from the close confines of the orphanage they would still be rivals.

“Yeah,” Mello replied.  



End file.
